


Pins and Needles

by Domina



Series: A Shattered Library [3]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Orgasm Denial, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-30
Updated: 2015-12-30
Packaged: 2018-05-10 08:15:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5578144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Domina/pseuds/Domina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A cross-shared drabble from Tumblr. <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/users/Mirabai0821/pseuds/Mirabai0821">Mirabai0821</a> suggested that I write orgasm control / delayed orgasm with FenHawke, and...well...</p>
<p>You read <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/5340443/chapters/12331349">Feed.</a> You know what this is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pins and Needles

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mirabai0821](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mirabai0821/gifts).



Pins and needles.

That is what Fenris makes of Hawke, when they are finally alone. The halls of his mansion end up filled with ghosts of the sound of slapping flesh. Any fool who dared to walk in would be haunted by Hawke’s tortured cries, and the sound of Fenris taking him, unyielding, unbound. 

“This is what you get,” he growls, “for two nights ago.”

Hawke, the cheeky bastard, recovers from the pain long enough to flick his sweat-soaked hair back. “You earned that, my love,” he says, flashing his teeth. “Every time you make that face, you earn it again, and again, and a- _FUUUCK_.” Fenris cuts him off with an exceptionally hard yank on his hair and an exceptionally hard thrust. 

“Yes, fuck,” he smirks. “A fuck is what pretty mages get when they edge me with magic. A _fuck_  is what they get when they do that thing with the lightning they learned from Anders.” 

Hawke begins to laugh but Fenris snaps his hips again. He still has the mage by the hair, and he admires the hell out of the way Hawke arches his back. He may not have been the strongest man - being a mage, he didn’t have to be - but he was grateful the Maker made him flexible. He’d probably have a bit of an ache come morning, but one he could smile about mysteriously alongside the bruises.

Besides. Everybody hurts sometimes.

Later, when they’ve collapsed on the bed, Fenris will laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. How Hawke was the taller man, but Fenris could loom over him and make him feel three feet tall. How Hawke had much larger hands that became useless when Fenris wrapped his slender fingers around his cock. How the one thing they supposedly taught mages was _restraint_ and yet there he was, whining beneath Fenris as he worked him, begging Fenris to let him come. 

“Are you close?” Fenris says, draping himself over his beloved. Hawke’s breaths come ragged - his body won’t lie, even though Fenris knows that _he_  will.

“No,” Hawke gasps, which he _knows_  is the wrong answer. That’s why he tries to buck into Fenris, taking more of him than before, in the hopes that his tight hot hole would make Fenris lose control. Which makes him laugh. Lose control? When he sought and found endless delight in turning that cheeky, red-cheeked mage into a pile of flesh in his hands?

_Never._

“Liar, liar,” Fenris murmurs into Hawke’s neck, “ _arse_ on fire.” He seizes Hawke’s arse cheek with the force of a hungry wolf finding prey, and the pain is just enough to pull Hawke back from the edge. The man groans, and curses him, and eventually goes back to pleading and bargaining when Fenris’ hand returns to his cock.

“Please,” Hawke says. Fenris says nothing, waiting for the second one.

“ _Please.”_

“Should you say that word again, I will pull out of you entirely.” It’s a threat he’s followed through on before, the last time Hawke provoked him into punishment, and Hawke _remembers_. He does his best to reduce his begging to a whimper as Fenris threads him along, slowly, towards the edge. 

Sweat prickles his brow. He is close to his own joy but is a stubborn man, so he focuses on leaning in to sink his teeth into Hawke. _I dare you_ , he thinks, _I dare you to come from this before I tell you to._  And he swears that Hawke heard his thoughts because he goes _right_ back to begging “ _please - fuck, please - FUCKING PLEASE”_ in a way that accentuates the way Fenris pounds into him. Drool begins to form around Fenris’ lips, but he doesn’t let that man’s neck leave his jaws for a second. Let it stay there. Let Hawke feel it dry against his skin and remember. 

Pins and needles. Needles and pins, and Hawke starts trembling from the way he’s been pricked for so long. Fenris knows he’s about to tip over the edge because he’s fallen silent, which is what Hawke normally does before he descends into a cascade of moans and sobs that make him ache. Fenris threads him through the eye of his need but just before he passes through, Fenris pulls out. He’s not done yet, and they will be forced to retrace their steps back to the edge.

Again.

And the sound of frustration Hawke lets out is loud enough to scare even spirits.


End file.
